The Gift of Song
by peski0piksi
Summary: Set slightly before the events in Hunger Games.  Katniss finds a small way to thank Peeta for the bread.  Only very slightly AU.


Every year, exactly one week before the Reaping, the people of District 12 hold a celebratory festival. It is not Capitol mandated, so most of us allow ourselves to enjoy it. It's a pretty bleak time of year, obviously, and the Festival is the last day of happiness any of us really enjoy until the Games are over.

I personally have always liked the Festival. There are games and music and food and dancing, and it's a nice time to get together with friends and just enjoy a day for once.

This year, though, my feelings are very mixed. On one hand I'm dreading it, and on the other I can't wait. The source of all this confusion? The annual Talent Exhibition.

One of the traditions of the Festival is that all sixteen year-olds are required to get up on the stage and show off our talent. Needless to say, I'm not really looking forward to participating.

It's not that I don't have talent…I do. Almost everyone knows I can decorate a cake better than anyone in the District (even my Dad), and a select few know that I like to sketch and paint, too. Unfortunately, neither of these activities are exactly something you can do up on a stage in front of a crowd.

So I've ended up deciding to go in with a few of my friends to act out a scene from a play. Thankfully, we're not required to go up there alone. All this means is that we'll all memorize a few lines and recite them back and forth to each other.

This is what most kids do. No one wants to stand out, and that's why the Talent Exhibition is usually the dullest portion of the Festival. Most people don't even watch…there's just a small stage set up at the side of the Festival grounds and people listen (or not) as they play the games and wander around. Honestly, I wonder why they even still bother. Although I guess there are a _few_ kids every year that can actually do something.

Which is the reason I'm looking forward to the Festival—one of the kids who can actually do something is a certain girl.

Katniss. Her name is Katniss. Katniss Everdeen, and she has the voice of an angel.

I've been in love with Katniss since we were five years old (I know that sounds ridiculous but I swear it's true). I fell in love with her partially because of her voice—she stood up on that stool and sang the Valley Song, and that was it for me and my heart.

It's been eleven years since then, and I still haven't worked up the nerve to speak to her. Not even after that thing that happened when we were eleven. I'm a friendly guy…I have lots of friends, and I've never had trouble talking to girls. But it's different with Katniss. Both because I care too much, and because she's just a different kind of girl. You couldn't talk to her the way you talk to most girls. She's special.

And at this point I think I'm too late, anyway. She's always hanging out with that Gale Hawthorne, and everyone is sure they're a couple. I don't know if that's true, but I do know that I'm not too fond of the guy. He's always going around with my girl.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to the Festival because I haven't really heard Katniss sing since we were five. I used to pick out her voice from among the rest during music assembly, of course, but that's not really the same. And she dropped music after her father died, so I haven't heard it at all since then.

Today is rehearsal, so if I get there early enough there's a chance I'll even get to hear her twice. It's a little pathetic how much I'm looking forward to it.

As I enter the gymnasium, I see that my fellow sixteen year-olds are gathering in the risers to wait their turn to perform for the teacher in charge of the whole thing.

As always, my eyes first zero in on Katniss. It's like a reflex—I don't even think about it anymore. She's sitting about halfway up with her friend Madge Undersee, and luckily, I spy my own group up in the corner behind them. I'll have to pass by her to reach them. I try not to grin too obviously as I make my way up the stairs.

I'm just passing behind them when I hear Madge ask Katniss:

"Do you have your lines all memorized?"

"About half," she answered. "I'll get the rest by Friday. We can just read today, right?"

"You're not going to sing?"

That was me. Oh my god. I have just spoken to Katniss Everdeen. I didn't mean to…it just popped out. And now both girls are looking at me like I've just grown another head. Very smooth, Mellark.

"What?" says Katniss.

"I…um…"

Calm down, Peeta. Just talk.

"Nothing, I guess I just…I was really looking forward to hearing you sing."

It had never entered my mind that she wouldn't, actually, which was pretty stupid on my part. Only the boldest kids actually perform sincerely for this thing.

"I don't sing, Peeta," says Katniss, a familiar scowl now appearing on her face.

Here's where I really lose it.

"Sure you do. I remember you singing in music assembly. You have a beautiful voice."

Great. Eleven years, and the first time I have the nerve to speak to her I practically reveal all of my obsessive secrets. This conversation could not be going any worse.

"I didn't say I can't sing. I said I _don't_ sing." Her head is down now, her hands twisting in her lap. She couldn't be making things any clearer, and I decided to bolt before I make it even worse.

"Right, sorry. Never mind…I didn't mean to interrupt…I'll just…" I gesture towards my friends.

Madge is smiling at me sympathetically, but Katniss doesn't look up.

"Bye."

I climb the risers towards my group and sit down facing away from the two girls. It's going to take at least an hour before my face returns to its normal color.

I think I'll wait another eleven years before I attempt to speak to her again.

I spend the next two days determinedly avoiding even looking at Katniss, which takes a lot of concentration on my part since usually she's the best thing I see all day. I've still not really gotten over the humiliation of that conversation…I can't believe I revealed so much.

The fact that I found out she actually knows my name is some (small) consolation. But what's the good of her knowing who I am if she thinks of me as…I don't know what. A stalker? An idiot? A jerk? All of the above?

The day of the Festival arrives, and luckily my group has been assigned one of the earlier time slots in the Exhibition. I get up on the stage with the rest of them, we all stumble through our lines, and then we're free to enjoy the rest of the day. Nobody even watches us except a few of our parents. (My mother, of course, couldn't be bothered, but my Dad was there at least.)

I take off with Tay and Willem, two of my oldest friends, and we wander around the grounds, playing the games and sampling the food. Our family bakery has a booth, of course, but I don't have to work it until later.

I have fun as usual with my friends, and even manage to forget the encounter with Katniss for a while. It's not until a couple of hours later that she's brought back to my mind when I hear her name announced over the loudspeaker. It's her and Madge's turn to perform.

_I will not go watch_, I tell myself. I will ignore her. If she sees me there watching, I'll be even further condemned to loserville. I turn back to my friends, determined to distract myself.

And then I hear a piano.

A piano?

And then I hear her voice.

Katniss. Singing.

Katniss is singing.

My friends forgotten, I walk towards the stage. I have to see this with my own two eyes. Sure enough, when I get there I see that Madge is playing the piano, accompanying Katniss who is singing into the microphone, her eyes shut.

And then my brain ceases to function. I can do nothing but stare and listen.

Her voice washes over me, enchanting me. She gains confidence as the song continues, her voice becoming stronger with every note. It's an old lullaby, one that I barely remember from my childhood, and Katniss makes it even more beautiful than my memories.

I close my eyes.

It goes too fast, and my eyes are still closed when the swelling applause and hoots and hollers of the crowd tell me the music has stopped. I open them to find Katniss staring straight at me.

My heart stops.

She nods her head, and then looks away.

And I have fallen in love all over again.

It takes way too long for me to recover. By the time I do, and realize that I desperately want to talk to Katniss..to ask _why_..she has gone. I race around to the back of the stage, but she's nowhere in sight. I spend the next hour searching the Festival grounds for her, but she's nowhere to be found.

I finally conclude that she has already left, and I will have to wait until Monday to see her. Disappointed, I head towards the Mellark Bakery booth to start my shift.

I think about Katniss the entire weekend. I hear her singing in my dreams. I watch for her on Sunday, but only Hawthorn shows up to trade. I can't get the question out of my head: D_id she change her mind about singing because of me?_

When the first bell rings on Monday morning, I am waiting at her locker.

She spots me from down the hall, and her pace slows as she approaches. I can tell from her expression that she does not want to talk to me, but I'm determined. I know from years of watching her that Katniss is not as tough as she would like to appear to others.

"Hi," I start. I have rehearsed this in my head all weekend.

"Hi." She opens her locker, not looking at me.

"Have a good weekend?"

"It was fine, I guess."

"I heard your song on Friday," I continue. I know she knows I was there, but it's as good an opener to this conversation as any. "It was really beautiful."

"Thanks," she says shortly.

"It's just that..." Her abrupt manner is finally getting to me. "I thought you said you didn't sing? I guess I was just wondering what changed your mind."

Katniss finally looks at me, sighs, and slams her locker shut.

"I changed my mind because you said you wanted to hear me sing," she says, apparently deciding to go ahead and get this over with.

I'm a bit stunned. I guess I didn't really expect her to admit this, even though it was what I had been hoping for all weekend.

"You did it for me? Why?"

"Because I owe you."

"You owe me? For what?"

"You probably don't even remember," she says. "It was years ago. You helped me when I really needed it, and I've always felt bad I never thanked you."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused. Then it hits me. "Wait…do you mean the bread? When we were kids?" I can't believe she remembers.

She nods.

"Katniss, you don't owe me for that. I never…"

"Of course I owe you," she interrupts. "You saved my life. You saved my sisters life."

I am momentarily speechless. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined this conversation turning this way. Of course I had known at the time that she and her sister were in a bad way, but I never thought two measly loafs of burnt bread would make much difference. And all this time, she's been feeling bad about it, like I was expecting something in return…

"I'm glad it helped, but honestly Katniss. It was no big deal. I should have done more." These thoughts have plagued me for years. I should have given her more. Defied my mother and gone out in the rain to her. Brought food or money for her to school in the following days…

But Katniss is shaking her head.

"It was a big deal to me."

I can see that we could go back and forth about this for a while, me insisting that she owed me nothing, she insisting that she owed me everything. I don't know what to say.

"Anyway," Katniss finally breaks the silence. "When you said you'd like to hear me sing, it seemed like the least I could do. It was no big deal," she shrugs.

I smile. She doesn't realize she has just repeated my own words back to me.

"It was a big deal to me," I say, doing the same. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." For the first time, I see the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. I, Peeta Mellark, have made Katniss Everdeen smile. I am officially on cloud nine now.

"So we can call it even now, right?" I say.

The smile disappears, and Katniss rolls her eyes.

"Hardly," she says.

Ah, there's the Katniss I know and love.

At that moment the second bell rings, and we have exactly one minute to make it to class.

"I've got to go," she says, turning away.

"Okay," I answer. "See you around."

As I turn and walk the other way, I feel like I'm floating on air. I'm already planning our next conversation, and how can I find out for sure what's going on between her and Hawthorne, and where should I take her on our first date…

And then I realize what week it is.

I'll wait until next week to talk to her again, after we've both made it through the Reaping.


End file.
